


Starlit Confessions and Shakespearean Tragedies

by dazeful



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Academy, Alternate Universe - Actors, Dark Academia, Dark Academia AU, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sugawara Koushi-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazeful/pseuds/dazeful
Summary: "That’s what has you worried?” He’s smiling, a wide grin full of playfulness. “So what if you’re wicked? We love you all the same, I love you all the same. Who I am on stage is a mask, an act. I would never look at you as anything less than amazing.” He collapses on top of the distressed man below him, forcing the air from Suga’s lungs.His face bursts into a brilliant red. “Wait𑁋 you said! You said!” He is unable to get the words he wants out.“I said that I love you.” Daichi wraps his arms around Suga’s shaking body. “What? You didn’t know?”“Well!” Suga huffs, anguish forgotten. “You act touchy-feely Mr. Nice Man with everyone! How was I supposed to know that I was any different?”Daichi moves off of Suga, pulls the smaller man onto his heaving chest. “You make a good argument, but I think everyone, but you could tell. I wouldn’t break the rules and lay in the soaking-wet ground with anyone else, you know.”
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	Starlit Confessions and Shakespearean Tragedies

The man takes a long drag of the cigarette that hangs haphazardly in his mouth. He’s in his year’s common room, balancing on the ledge of an open window. The smoke drifts lazily into the night air beyond, pulled out by a desolate wind. The taste is bitter, he’s never really enjoyed the burn of a smoke, but it reminds him of Daichi, and that is enough to make him love it. 

Someone walks in, spots Sugawara brooding and promptly turns tail. The man doesn’t blame them, he can be a bastard when he’s in a mood. He isn’t quite sure what was wrong, the production of  _ Hamlet  _ had gone without a hitch, yet something dark had nestled into his heart at the end of the play. Maybe it was the first year who’d stumbled on his way out, or the girl in the audience who had forgotten to turn off her flash. Or maybe it was watching Daichi look at him like he was a monster. 

See, Daichi was a natural born hero type, destined to play roles that showed off valiance, his lionhearted nature. He’d portray roles of Lear and Romeo, characters who captured his ability to inspire goodness and showcase his raw emotions. Suga, though, became the villain. 

Off the stage he was endearing, a natural nurturer and offered friendship to anyone. However, as soon as he stepped onto the stage that gentle nature vanished, replaced by something sinister. His ever smiling face would twist into a smirk full of sharp teeth and unspoken wickedness. His body jerking, twitching like a puppet tied to nimble thread. His eyes, usually as warm as a sunny day, alight with cold anger. Suga wasn’t sure  _ why  _ he became something corrupt on stage, he’d tried (and failed) to play the support roles or even Daichi’s hero. There was something about the stage that brought forth an emotion in Suga that he had long since buried away. 

And he hated the way Daichi, the way the  _ hero _ , would look at him. 

_Hamlet_ had been cast, and like the past foretold Daichi would play Hamlet, Suga as Claudius. He hated the way Daichi had looked at him, hated the way he had spit curses at him as if he were some twisted thing, as if he was not Sugawara at all. In a way he wasn’t, Suga became whatever role he had too, but it didn’t hurt any less seeing the man he  _ loved  _ look at him like he was some ugly thing. 

Suga sighed, smudged the cigarette out on the brick of the window ledge. He needed to go to sleep, they had another production tomorrow after all, but the man wanted to admire the night for a bit longer. Fire crackled behind him, the muffled sound of voices passing by rose to a symphony. It was winter, the air was cold, but Suga liked the numb chill it brought to his skin. The stars in the sky twinkled brightly, eternally beautiful, and the moon winked at him from behind thin wisps of clouds. 

The man reached a hand out, the sky seemed so close, as though if he reached a little farther he could run his hands through it. He wondered what it would feel like. The texture of soft silk, perhaps, or inky ocean water? Would the stars burn him, wound him? Would the moon chill his fingers, turn his blood to ice? He leaned farther out, hyper focused, his knees on the edge of the window and only his other hand anchoring him to the ledge.    
  


Wind whipped around his hair, played with silver tresses. Suga was falling. 

Then there was a hand on his sweater, pulling it taught around his neck. He choked, air ripped from his lungs. “Huh?”

“I thought there was a rule not to let you visit your lover after a show?” It was phrased as a question, but there was humor in that deep timbre. “Suga, you look like a cat that got caught stuck in the curtains.”

There was a running joke among the third year actors that Suga would never love anyone as much as he loved the sky. But, could you blame him? Who  _ wouldn’t  _ fall in love with the most beautiful sight a human could ever cast their eyes upon? The incorrect part of that jest was that there was indeed someone else Suga had fallen for, someone who was currently holding him by the scruff of his neck as though he were a young animal. 

“I can’t help it, Daichi,” Suga pouted, letting himself be put on the ground beside Daichi’s feet. “It’s just so wondrous. Ethereal.  _ Lovely _ .” He rambled, cast his eyes away from the man he so wanted to touch. “Anyways, it was my bad. I’ll head off to bed now, gotta be ready for the show tomorrow!” 

Suga made to move past Daichi, mind now on the pile of homework he had sitting on his desk, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Want to go outside?” The words, want to soothe your nerves by laying in the grass and star gazing like we always do went unspoken. 

“Sure.”

It felt a bit scandalous, racing down the stairs after curfew, hands locked like lovers. No other student stirred at the hour, or maybe they did and they were better at slipping by unnoticed than Suga and Daichi. The Academy is old, the walls groan as wind buffets them, creaks sound like clockwork, and there’s a low drone of sound that reminds Suga of snoring. If the teachers catch them it would mean being barred from the performance tomorrow, but they’re feeling a bit invincible right now. 

They slip through the back door at the edge of the kitchen, quiet as mice and twice as quick. By the time they stop running the actors are breathless and soft dandelion fuzz brushes their bare feet. They fall from grace as easily as fallen celestials, bodies landing in dewdrop grass and throwing dandelion tufts into the air like fluffy snowflakes. 

“Cold!” Suga shivers under his sweater and ripped jeans. 

Daichi laughs, a sound of brass bells and croaky morning voices. “It’s winter, what did you expect?” He’s teasing but he still rolls closer to the other, their skin flush against each other. Daichi radiates heat, he always has, and Suga finds himself snuggling impossibly close to him. “Better?”   
  


Suga hums, tilting his head to the heavens. He loses himself in the endless expanse of dusk above him. He’s in love with the painted canvas above him, smitten with the myriad of color splashed across it. Black darkness stretches forever onward, murky clouds of brown hues, and bundles of stars of blue and purple. He feels a prickle on his cheek, and when he turns his head he finds Daichi’s eyes upon him. 

“When are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Daichi’s voice is steady, but Suga can see him ripping clumps of grass and weed up from the ground. A nervous tic of the man’s, his hands always sought purchase, as though he was grounding himself. 

Silver hair falls across golden eyes, an arm thrown over flushed cheeks. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Suga.” Daichi sighs, turns his eyes back to the sky. “I can tell when something’s off. I can see it in the way your smile is a bit more crooked, lopsided, twitching downwards. Usually you’d wait til  _ all  _ the productions were over before opening that window. Your shoulders slump when you’re upset, and you’re quick to dismiss me claiming it’s your bedtime. And worst of all you were  _ alone  _ and Sugawara Koushi is  _ never  _ alone.” Daichi raised his hand, let grass fall in a cascade of deep green. 

“I𑁋”

“Why do you not trust me enough to tell you what ails you?” Daichi let his eyes slide over to Suga’s, a clash of burnt mahogany and liquid gold.  _ “Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move his aides, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.”  _

Suga’s tongue shifted into Shakespeare, nudged so by Daichi.  _ “I pray you, do not fall in love with me, For I am falser than vows made in wine”  _ There’s a worried feeling seeping into Suga’s being, he’s scared he’s made Daichi angry. 

Daichi rolls to hover over Suga’s form, arms an arch over the man’s head. “Is this about the play?”

“It seems like all of our problems stem from plays, be more specific.”

The actor on top fixed Suga with a look. “Did I do something wrong? Did I mess up a line? Or did someone say something to you?” His eyes are searching, genuine concern swimming in them.

“No, no. It’s not any of that.” Suga knows nothing he feels will remain hidden from Daichi, he’s far too persistent to let Suga rest easy. “It’s just𑁋 when I’m on stage I feel natural. Words flow freely from my lips, my actions feel completely my own. Yet, I play the villain. I always have. And sometimes I wonder if behind my gentle facade is a monster.”

He could feel the pinprick of tears in his eyes, feel them accumulate and overflow down his cheeks. Daichi simply watched, quiet, waiting for Suga to continue. 

“What if deep down I’m actually a monster? It shouldn’t hurt, I know it shouldn’t. I  _ know  _ there are worse people than me, but it still  _ hurts. _ ” Suga wasn’t sobbing yet, but he could feel the air start to become harder to take in. “It hurts seeing you look at me like I’m disgusting.”

And then Daichi is laughing.

Suga’s mouth falls open, his tears drying up. “Huh?” 

“That’s what has you worried?” He’s smiling, a wide grin full of playfulness. “So what if you’re wicked? We love you all the same,  _ I  _ love you all the same. Who I am on stage is a mask, an  _ act. _ I would never look at you as anything less than amazing.” He collapses on top of the distressed man below him, forcing the air from Suga’s lungs. 

His face bursts into a brilliant red. “Wait𑁋 you said! You said!” He is unable to get the words he wants out. 

“I said that I love you.” Daichi wraps his arms around Suga’s shaking body. “What? You didn’t know?” 

“Well!” Suga huffs, anguish forgotten. “You act touchy-feely  _ Mr. Nice Man _ with everyone! How was I supposed to know that I was any different?”

Daichi moves off of Suga, pulls the smaller man onto his heaving chest. “You make a good argument, but I think everyone, but you could tell. I wouldn’t break the rules and lay in the soaking-wet ground with anyone else, you know.”

“You don’t do this with all the boys?”

“Not a one.”

Suga taps his chin, “How can I be sure you fancy me?”

The other laughs at the term  _ fancy _ , feins a thinking face. “Would a kiss do the trick?”

“I think so.”

They meet in the middle, a battle of steady warmth and chilled emotion. It’s messy, teeth clacking together and no movement for a few seconds. It’s awkward, Suga is unsure while perched on Daichi’s chest, unconsciously he kicks his legs back and forth like a lovestruck idiot. Suga is more experienced, Daichi can tell in the way he lets his hands card through Daichi’s dark locks and paints a picture with his tongue. The silver-haired vixen can be felt grinning into the kiss, and Daichi can’t help but return the smile.

The lack of air makes them break away, but the men only take in a few gasping breaths before reuniting their lips. It makes Daichi happy, soothes his nerves, yet at the same time causes excitement to flood his blood. Suga thinks kissing Daichi is a bit like coming home after a time away. He feels safe, feels like he’s finally where he belongs. Once more the two part, a strand of saliva connects them before Suga flicks it into Daichi’s face. 

“Suga, gross!”

“There are worse things that could be on your face.” Suga’s eyes soften, “like the slug that’s crawled onto your shoulder.” 

Suga is abruptly thrown into the dewy ground as Daichi vaults up, there’s a stream of  _ get it off, get it off!  _ Then there’s laughter from the both of them, raw, unfiltered laughter. Until they’re hunched over, ribs aching and tears renewed in brown eyes. 

In the distance an owl hoots, the lonely howl of something somber rises above it. It’s late, and they have a performance tomorrow. Suga mentions teachers and costumes, but Daichi is already leading him back into the school building and into his room. They heat chilled skin under thick blankets and quilts knit by mothers. Daichi drifts into slumber with gray hair obscuring his view, his own legs entwined with Suga’s. Suga watches with heavy eyes as the sky drifts through Daichi’s window, the smell of smoke and pine easing him into dreams of dandelions and starlit confessions.

And when the performance goes by the next day, Suga plays his role knowing he was himself, and he was okay with that; and Daichi’s eyes are not so harsh when he recalls the night before. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My first Haikyuu ship fic! I wrote this late in the night while on four cups of coffee, so I don't know if this even makes sense lmao?? Comments are appreciated!!!


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